An Evening with Mr Yang & a Night to Remember
by Erik Thomas Stephans
Summary: Shawn's confronted with the Yin Yang killer and Lassiter's frustrated with Spencer's very existence ruining every chance that he has at a career advancement — or even just gaining the respect he well deserves from everyone. currently preslash shassie


**An Evening with Mr. Yang & a Night to Remember**

Chapter: 00

By Erik T. Stephans

**Lassiter 01**

There was something about the way he managed to get under his skin every single day. The damned psychic somehow managed to know exactly what pissed him off the most. The last straw was when he gave him a snow globe for Christmas and spread the rumor around that he actually wanted the stupid things for a gift. What a pain in his ass.

Lassiter wished the neurotic boy, Spencer, had given up on this whole ruse of a detective business. It was his fault that he didn't have a girlfriend anymore; it was Spencer's fault that the rest of the detectives didn't have as much respect for him any more. His life was going down the drain and he was happy to blame Spencer for it all.

The funny thing was that Lassiter had found a package in his desk drawer later that evening, wrapped nicely but with no tag or card to denote who it was from. Inside the well-wrapped Christmas gift were two button-up shirts in different patterns of plaid in blue and white. Both were long sleeve and made out of quality material. They reminded him of the shirt he'd stolen from Spencer when he'd gotten his own shirt dirty. His first thought was that Spencer was playing some kind of joke on him, but then he came to realize that anyone could have seen him when he was wearing it that day.

Christmas scandals aside, Lassiter was ready to be done with the day and it'd only just begun. Riffling through a stack of papers, he drank his coffee in peace, at least for the time being. Who knew when Spencer would waltz in and ruin his day. Hopefully Spencer broke his leg or something so he couldn't bother the head detective today. But by the time the clock struck one, Carlton Lassiter wished that it had been Shawn Spencer that was the worst of his problems. The chief called him and his partner, Juliet O'Hara, into her office, looking more stressed than normal, her hands trembling ever so slightly.

"What's up, Chief?" O'Hara ventured to ask, maintaining her cheerful demeanor as much as she could.

"This just came in and I need you and O'Hara to get everyone else in the meeting room for a briefing while I make a couple of important phone calls," she barked, issuing orders in such a way Lassiter had never seen her do before. It was strange, but as soon as she handed him the copies of the originals in a manila envelope, he pulled them out to get a sense of what they were going to be up against, he knew exactly why. She'd made a copy of the envelope's seal: the Yin-Yang killer. "I need everyone I can get on this case and we need to act soon. Is that understood?"

Both detectives nodded quickly, closing the door soundly behind them with Lassiter clutching the photocopies tight in his slender hands, looking straight ahead. This could make or break his career and he would be ready for it. He had to be ready for it. He'd prove to everyone he wasn't just some aging detective that needed to be hung out to dry.

"Carlton," his partner hissed, insistent and confused, tugging on his sleeve, "what's going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough, O'Hara," Lassiter practically sighed, coming to himself, "just do me a favor and round everyone up while I set the room up, will you?"

"Sure thing, just let me know if there's anything else you need me to do," the blonde detective replied, a slightly uneasy smile on her face as she swiftly turned to gather the detectives and officers that the Chief would want on this case.

**Shawn 01**

When he'd arrived at the Santa Barbara Police Station, Shawn was swept up in the chaos that had taken hold of every staff member present. Given the disorder and the urgency with which the Chief called him when she ordered him down to the station, he knew something big was happening. And it probably wasn't a good thing. Based on the stern glare (and was there a bit of _eagerness_ that he saw, too?) that Lassie was giving everyone in the room, it was probably a serial killer. _Just great_.

"Listen up!" Chief Vick announced, causing the edgy chatter to die instantaneously as everyone turned their focus to the sobering news she was about to give. "We received the following letter about an hour ago," she intoned, turning the projector to the first slide. "It has been authenticated. It's from the Yin-Yang killer. Pay close attention. "

After a short pause, Lassiter began reading the cut-out letters that had been formed into sentences. There was something about the way these kinds of serial killers pasted the letters together, making it all the more threatening. Shawn suppressed a shiver as Lassiter read the letter aloud:

"Hey everybody I'm back! For one night only. I'm going to kill someone tonight. Guess who? Guess where? Guess how? This is going to be so much fun! Signed, Mr. Yang."

Unarguably, Shawn was right: a serial killer. And for once, he really hated being right about something. Although since the chief had called him, specifically, he was sure that they'd get on the case. Sure, he'd had fantasies about getting on a huge case like this, but what was he getting himself into with this one?

As if on queue, Chief Vick broke him out of his stupor soon after Lassiter had stopped reading. "He's looking for a new challenger. That's what he does," she looked around, almost nearing desperate.

Lassiter jumped in, standing up straight, "Chief, I believe he's speaking to me." The gangly head detective shifted to a more aggressive stance, hands firm on his hips. "Trust me, I am ready."

Hesitantly, the chief met eyes with Lassiter, but held up the projector controller, firmly pushing down the button to advance to the next slide, which read: "P.S. ...OH, AND BRING YOUR PSYCHIC ALONG" which looked as if it had been scribbled down on the paper in crayon using a stencil.

Shawn noted how suddenly Lassiter stilled, unarguably frustrated with the whole thing. He didn't blame the man, really.

The psychic's heart raced, nervous about the whole thing. He remembered a little bit about this one and he'd rather not be involved - not in this capacity. Shawn snorted, trying to wave the whole thing off, "Oh, come on, people. He could be talking about anybody." Everyone was looking at him, now, except for Lassiter, who was quite obviously depressed about his prospects on being the lead detective on the case with this development. Shawn always had something for Lassie at some level, moved by just how easily the man seemed to get worked up about not being chosen. The detective's skills were good, but Shawn knew that his were better and it was definitely a _gift_.

"Just last week," Shawn continued nervously gesturing, "Officer Yankowitz guessed my favorite variety of snack cracker: Tuscan wheat." He laughed nervously, "It's really obscure."

His heart plunged as the chief advanced to the next slide without even looking at the screen, her eyes fixed on him. It was that photo from the museum of him "unearthing a dinosaur".

If there was one thing that he knew absolutely for sure was that he wasn't going to be able to get off of this case without severe consequences. Not with _this guy _involved.

**Lassiter 02**

Once he'd discovered that he was passed up once again for the likes of _Spencer_, the head detective began to tune everything out while the "psychic" tried to dance his way out of it. For whatever reason he'd want to try and get out of this case, Lassiter couldn't understand. This was a once in a lifetime chance to prove oneself to the world at large! Well, at least a large proportion of the United States, at least. Carlton had always yearned for one of these cases - and what self-respecting detective wouldn't? It would put him on the map, so to speak! And with the nation-wide obsession with serial killers, that was pretty much guaranteed, especially if the said detective managed to crack the case wide open. And this detective was sure he was more than qualified enough for the job of catching this loon.

There it was again, evidence that childish man of a "detective", Shawn Spencer, was ruining his life. He might not be actively trying, but to Lassiter, he might as well have been.

He was pulled out of his daze by the sound of the chief's voice addressing him: "Detective Lassiter, introduce Shawn to our point person."

Immediately, he sprang to action, "Spencer, listen up."

And there was already some hesitancy from Spencer as he quickly retorted, "whoa, whoa. I'm getting - I'm getting something already."

Enough with the psychic business already and get your ass in gear, Lassiter grumbled internally, more than fed up with the whole situation. "What? What is it?" he asked, curious despite himself.

"I can see the killer," he announced, but it was in softer tone than normal, as he walked around the room, hand to head as usual as he had his "psychic visions".

"Already?" Lassiter rejoined, unconvinced.

"Yes," Spencer replied, coming to stand in front of him. "And I know exactly where he is. Right there," he concluded, pointing to Mary Lightly. "Come on, that's our guy."

Now he's really done it.

Thank God for Juliet, who pulled him over as Lassiter merely just stared at Spencer, unable to believe the kind of prank that the nut was trying to pull now.

"Shawn, that is Mary Lightly," she explained in a soft voice, "our profiler from the serial homicide and abduction task force." O'Hara continued, trying to get her point across to the idiot who was glaring at Lightly suspiciously. "He is very familiar with the patterns of our killer."

Of course he had a witty retort all lined up for the occasion, finally meeting eyes with the female detective. "And how to make an attractive lamp out of human skin."

"Shawn, play nice. He's a genius. And we need him."

Lassiter couldn't have ever managed to get Spencer to cooperate like she did. One good reason to keep letting his partner talk to the nut-brain every once in a while. He still couldn't understand why she listened and took Spencer so seriously all of the time. Even to the point of her believing in all of that psychic bullshit.

The Irishman wouldn't have had a problem gripping the younger man by the collar and threatening him into silence. As if that ever happened, since Spencer always had something clever to throw back at the detective. Those situations generally resulted in degrading comments being thrown back and forth between the two of them. Which occasionally, Lassiter was only slightly willing to admit to, ended up with the two of them with their hands all over each other. Until someone broke them up or reminded the head detective of his place. That always angered him more than anything that Spencer, of all people, could irritate him so much that he acted completely out of character and joined in with his childish antics.

"Mary…" Juliet began, "this is…"

"Shawn Spencer," the be-speckled genius replied from his station at the computer, rising to the challenge, "in the flesh."

"See? He said 'flesh.'"

Lassiter was lost. "You know him?" he asked, crossing his arms, a little suspicious, himself. Maybe Spencer wasn't a complete idiot…

"I've done my research, okay?" Lightly aimed at the gangly detective, watching from a safe distance.

"Yeah, well, I've googled myself, too, and there's a lot of stuff missing," Shawn cut in, looking like he was about to show the other man up. Now that Guster was standing next to him, he introduced him, "This is my partner, Sterling Cooper." Why Spencer always introduced Guster as someone other than himself, Lassiter would never know.

Lightly raised his arm in that awkward way that he did, his hand limp, causing Guster to awkwardly shake it with a befuddled, "hello."

At least Guster had the decency to act like a normal person, most of the time, and was definitely the more responsible one of the two. Most certainly, in Lassiter's opinion, more of the brains of the two of them in their little operation.

"So, what's Mary short for? Marian?" Spencer asked, earning him a whispered 'no' from Lightly.

Hurriedly, Lassiter found his opening. "Great, we're all good friends. Care to shed a little light on this subject?" he asked, a little more than hostile, he supposed, but it was warranted. He was supposed to be lead on this and he would be, no matter that the killer had selected Spencer. When Spencer failed, he'd be there to take all of the credit and would be the true hero.

"Mr. Yang is the most notorious killer this city has never seen. He claimed six victims in the summer of 1995," Lightly began, launching into a knowledgable summery of the killer's exploits, "and has resurfaced twice, claiming a single victim each instance. He only resurfaces when he feels there is a worthy opponent." Lassiter glanced over at Spencer for a second and noticed him giving the same glare that he had before. Lassiter was the last people to admit that sometimes Spencer was right, but maybe there was something to this Lightly fellow that was genuinely suspicious. "Now, his M.O.," Mary Lightly continued, Lassiter's attention drawn back, "is to challenge us with the opportunity to save the victims by solving his riddles."

Lassiter uneasily looked away when he felt Lightly's gaze drop on him, shifting back over to Spencer as the "psychic" announced that he had a question and raising his hand.

Now what? Carlton scowled, ready to get on with it. He hoped it was at least a good question, although that was entirely unlikely.

"Regarding the whole Mary thing."

But of course.

"My father's name was Mary. His father before him was named Mary. And his father before him was named Craig," he offered as an explanation, quick to the draw with Spencer's crazy. Lassiter would give him that.

"Fair enough. Proceed," Spencer decided it was a good enough answer and turned to roll his eyes or something at Juliet.

"Yin Yang," the profiler began again, unfazed by practically anything. "The origin of this Chinese symbol is the unity of opposites. Two opposing, and at the same time, complementary aspects."

The whole crowd moved when Lightly did, along with Carlton, who physically moved to get out of the other's way.

"Dark versus light, killer versus cop, Kramer versus Kramer."

Lightly, Lassiter had begun to come to the conclusion of, was just as bad as Spencer in some respects, always rambling on and on about some obscure point. Like it really mattered. "Just show him the riddle," he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest once again. Thankfully, without anything else to add, Mary did just that.

And just as soon as the slide advanced, Juliet read it so everyone could know what it said. "She serves the general well today whose soldiers wait to die - In a white river they shall pay for them she will not cry - who is she?" she asked at the end, just as confused as anyone else by it.

"Now, this riddle came with this stopwatch," Lightly explained, pulling it out of his inside jacket pocket, "already running. One of his classic moves." Briefly looking at the numbers on the watch, he told them, "you've got one hour and ten minutes, people."

Lassiter took the lead, he could prove to the rest of them he was more than capable for this than Shawn Spencer. He was a civil war buff! Who, better than him, would be capable of solving this riddle? "'Generals and soldiers' - she'd be in the military," he figured, quickly raising his voice, shouting "McNab!" over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir!" the tall officer replied to his superior, spooking Lassiter, not realizing that he'd been right next to him the whole time.

"Damn it," he cursed, turning to face the younger man. Regaining his composure, he gave his order: "Want you to contact every military base in an 80 mile radius. Find out if any female personnel have gone AWOL in the last 48 hours." He had this. He had it and Spencer didn't! He'd prove to the Yin Yang killer that he'd made a mistake and that he really should have addressed that challenge to him, not to that fool of a child that tried to pass himself off as an adult - and a psychic, nonetheless.

Just his luck, Mary decided to chime in and ruin his big moment, "Now bear in mind, it's the psychic that he wants to play with." The detective just ground his teeth together, more than irritated. "Each riddle will relate to him personally," referring to Spencer.

"Do you have any thoughts, Shawn?" Juliet asked, who'd watched the younger man walk to the projector screen as he contemplated the riddle.

Just his luck, they were aimed at Spencer. How was he supposed to figure anything out if he had to decipher that crazy perspective first?


End file.
